I slipped a cup into my pocket.

It is not broken.

I will pour you out a cup of milk." The girl seized the bread and butter, and began devouring it.

She was so famished that she almost tore it as she ate.

Catherine, who had quite forgotten her dignified _role_ in compassion for the first real hunger she had ever witnessed, knelt on the grass by her side, and once, twice, thrice, filled the cup full of milk, and held it to her lips.
"Now you are better," she said, when the meal had come to an end.
"Yes, thank you, Miss Bertram, much better.